


Have You Ever Met an Insincere Dog?

by Gadzooks06



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Multi, Original Character Death(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 20:32:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2082174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gadzooks06/pseuds/Gadzooks06
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras and Grantaire Adopt a Dog with a Peculiar Name</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have You Ever Met an Insincere Dog?

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [How the Future's Done](https://archiveofourown.org/works/725065) by [barricadeur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/barricadeur/pseuds/barricadeur). 



“I’m bored, let’s get a dog.” Grantaire whined, draping himself over the couch’s arm. Enjolras looked up from his computer.

“What does you being bored have to do with us getting a pet?” He scoffed.

“I’m bored, animals are fun. If we get a pet, I don’t get bored anymore, and a dog will keep me company when you’re busy.” Grantaire explained, rolling over so Enjolras wasn’t upside down anymore.

“A dog is a lot of responsibility Grantaire…” Enjolras trailed off, not sure what he next standpoint would be.

“I had a dog as a kid! I had several dogs! I taught them to do all sorts of tricks and took them hunting! I’m an excellent dog trainer.” Grantaire put the weight of his head on his hands.

“Do you think we’re ready to get a-”

“Yes.”

“When do you want to-”

“Now.”

“So we’ll run by the pet store and grab the essentials and buy a puppy?”

“Not a puppy, we’re going to the animal shelter.”

“But if we get a puppy-”

“Animal Shelter.” Grantaire insisted.

“Fine. You want to go right now?”

“Right now.”

“Alright.” Enjolras closed his laptop and grabbed his key.

“Wait,” Grantaire held out a hand.

“What?” Enjolras shrugged on his jacket.

“Are we actually getting a dog because I’m a bored soul and I asked nicely?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, now let’s go.” Enjolras smiled.

“Holy crap.” Grantaire grinned like a lunatic, “It finally worked.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get used to it.”

* * *

 

“Medium sized dog, yeah?” Grantaire hovered over the collars, rubbing his scruff with his palm. Enjolras nodded and wandered off to find toys that wouldn’t squeak. Grantaire’s eyes flitted about over the entire wall of different patterns and designs. He liked the camouflage, but not the spikes. The cupcakes were a bit ridiculous, and so were the ones encased in rhinestones. He rolled his eyes and kept looking, eventually finding a nice brown leather one. R looked at the price tag and winced. He kept it in his hand and kept searching for another one that wouldn’t hurt his wallet so much. He finally spotted it. A band of blue, white, and red nylon with a metal clasp. He eagerly checked the price, not too bad. Grantaire snatched the matching leash and scurried past the chinchillas to find Enjolras with arms full of various dog toys.

“I couldn’t decide.” He mumbled. Grantaire showed him the collar he’d picked out and Enjolras nearly dropped everything to hold it, “It’s perfect.”

“Let’s get the rubber kong toy, the frisbee, the bones, and the tiny giraffe.” Grantaire pulled the toys from Enjolras’ grasp and the blond put the rest back where he’d found them, “We can put peanut butter in this one.” Grantaire smiled, pointing to the giant red chew toy.

“Peanut butter?” Enjolras’ raised his eyebrows.

“You’ve never seen a dog try to get peanut butter off the roof of its mouth? It’s the greatest thing on earth, trust me.”

“Alright. Let’s go see what the food options are here.” Enjolras led the way to the aisle, picking up a training book for beginners on the way.

After twenty minutes of debate and asking several employees for second, third, and fourth opinions, Enjolras and Grantaire finally decided on a dry kibble with the most benefits for any dog they chose, even if it was a little more expensive.

Adding a dog bed and food bowls to the ever growing pile of supplies, the couple made their way to the register and split the cost of all of the necessities. With several bags, they piled everything into Enjolras’ car and drove to the nearest animal shelter. They passed any and all ownership tests and were finally allowed into the back to pick out their pet.

“Grantaire there are so many, how do we decide?” Enjolras grabbed Grantaire’s hand as they stepped into the kennel full of barking and whining canines. Each one looked so sad and just wanted a home. But they had the pick the one that was right for both of them and their lifestyle.

“We’ll know. We’ll see it and we’ll know.” They looked back and forth, shaking their heads and occasionally stooping to see if a certain dog reacted the right way, whatever way that was. Grantaire tilted his head at the beagle, frowned at the bulldog, and then finally he came to one of the few remaining kennels. This one particular dog didn’t immediately come to the gate, but his ears perked up and he stood, intently watching Grantaire and tilting his head back and forth. Grantaire smiled, “Enjolras.” He called. Enjolras turned away from the mastiff currently growling at him. He crouched down next to Grantaire. The dog’s tail began to wag, and soon his whole body was wiggling. He moseyed up the gate and licked at Grantaire’s fingers, happily panting and tilting his head. Enjolras checked the paperwork for the dog.

“He’s an Entlebucher Mountain Dog. They’re a Swiss Breed with a high energy level.” Enjolras sighed.

“What?” Grantaire looked up, his hands pushed as far as they could through the bars to rub the dog’s head.

Enjolras put his hand on his forehead, “His name is ridiculous.”

“I bet it’s not so bad.” Grantaire made a kissy-face at was certainly his new best friend.

“His name is Penguin.” Enjolras groaned. R cackled, pleased that the perfect dog had a perfect name.

“I love it.”

“Did you not just hear me? The dog’s name is Penguin.”

“Well, he looks like one.”

“He’s a dog, not a bird.”

“There have been worse names for dogs.” Grantaire scratched behind Penguin’s ears.

“I guess you’re right.” Enjolras bit his lip, “I really like him.” He said.

“I think he likes us too.” Grantaire replied, not taking his eyes off the little worm.

“Let’s go fill out the paperwork.” Enjolras headed towards the door.

“We’ll be back for you in a few minutes.” R told the dog, struggling to get his arms back out of the bars, bracing his feet against the walls on their side of the gate until he finally popped free. Enjolras chuckled and they walked back up to the front desk, Penguin’s muzzle mushed through the gate, yipping as the door closed behind them.

“Well, good thing for you two, Penguin’s already neutered, had all of his shots, is very obedient, and listens to commands very well.” The woman at the counter pulled out the dog’s file, reading off the history, “He was the runt of the litter in pedigree ring and the owners sold him as a puppy. The little girl who adopted him had cancer and died a few years later, and he’s been here ever since, the parents couldn’t keep him after all of it.” She shrugged, “But he’s a very good dog. Would you like us to make a license for his collar?” She asked. Grantaire nodded and put the collar on the counter. Enjolras gave her the information and she stamped a license, clipping it onto the collar.

“As soon as you sign your names here and pay the adoption fee, he’s all yours.” She grinned. The pair coughed up around three hundred dollars for the adoption and the medical exams Penguin would need before they could take him home with them. They even had him microchipped, just in case. They sat on the bench for about a half an hour while Penguin had his check up and quick grooming. the woman at the desk finally came out again, Penguin in tow on his new leash. She handed the dog off to Grantaire and he crouched down, giving the dog a good rub down. Enjolras tucked the paperwork under his arm and they exited the shelter with their new pet.

“Wait.” Enjolras stopped Grantaire before they got into the car, “Let me take a picture of you two.” Enjolras pulled his phone out of his pocket and took several pictures until he had the perfect shot of Penguin licking Grantaire’s face. He sent out a mass text to everyone.

Enjolras:Everyone say hello to Penguin! The newest member of our little family!

Penguin eagerly hopped into the backseat with ease and laid down. R looked over his shoulder and talked to the dog the whole way back to the apartment. Grantaire handed Enjolras the leash and he took the rest of the bags inside. They stepped onto the elevator, Penguin hesitant at first. He looked up on Enjolras, then at Grantaire, then into the elevator and put one paw in front of the other until he was completely inside. The doors pinged and slid closed. Penguin yipped and jumped, turning one hundred and eighty degrees to face the door. The lift shook and started moving upwards. Penguin looked around in bewilderment, tangling himself in the leash.

Grantaire chuckled in pity for the poor creature and untangled him, giving him a kiss on the nose, Penguin returned the sentiment across R’s entire face.

The doors opened to the elevator and Grantaire led the way with his mountain of bags. Enjolras unlocked the door and they all pushed inside.

“Welcome home Mr. ‘Guin!” Grantaire laid down on the floor and Enjolras unclipped the leash from the collar and Penguin play-bowed, hopping up and down and tossing himself onto Grantaire’s chest. Enjolras began unpacking the supplies, putting the bowls on the floor by the island, the dog bed in the living room, the toys in a basket, and the food in the pantry. He put the treats in the cabinet and attached the baby locks to the refrigerator, there was no chance the dog was getting into their food. Once he was done, Enjolras dropped to the floor and crawled over to his boyfriend and their dog, ignoring the constant text messages from his friends.

 

Marius: OH MY GOD HE'S SO CUTE

Feuilly: When the hell did you decide to get a dog?

Joly: Does he have all his shots?

Eponine: Watch out Enjolras, he might steal your man

Courfeyrac: ARE YOU SERIOUS? YOU GOT A PUPPY AND DIDN'T TELL ME? WHEN CAN I COME OVER AND SEEEEEEE HIIIIIIIIIIMMMMMMMMMM AND GIVE HIM PATSSSS??????????

Jehan: My heart...that picture... So glad for you guys!

Bahorel: PUPPY

Combeferre: Aww, cute.

Bossuet: JOLY I WANT ONE

Joly: NO

Bossuet: WHY NOT

Joly: GERMMMMMMMMMMS

Musichetta: Dog's mouths are actually cleaner than peoples

Joly: HOW WOULD YOU KNOW THAT?

 

After a very good wrestling match, Enjolras had his head propped up on his hand, “We should see what kind of training he’s gotten and what he’s retained.” Penguin nuzzled into his stomach.

“Good idea.” Grantaire sat up. Penguin rolled over onto his paws, sitting and thumping his tail on the floor, “Let’s start with something basic, Penguin.” The dog’s ears perked up when he heard his name, that was a good sign. “Penguin, sit.” Grantaire curled his wrist towards himself, a training gesture he’d learned while training his pet corgi, Sniffles, as a kid. Penguin sat down. Enjolras watched intently as Grantaire got Penguin to sit, lay down, roll over, give him each of his paws, and play dead, “There, he’s practically perfect. You try, then we can reward him.” Grantaire nodded towards Enjolras.

Apollo gulped, he’d only had a horse as a child, he’d never actually owned a dog before, “Penguin, sit.” The dog complied, setting his haunched onto the floor. Enjolras grinned, and got Penguin to perform the same actions using a firm, yet gentle voice.

“Cookie time!” Grantaire pulled himself off the floor and slid on his socks into the kitchen and into the cabinet. Penguin eagerly trotted behind him, sitting down as Grantaire opened the box, “Good boy, Penguin!” R held his fingers up to Penguin’s muzzle and the dog delicately ate out of his hand. Grantaire rubbed his head, “You’re a good boy, Penguin, you’re a good boy!” Grantaire handed Enjolras a treat and the blond anxiously held out his hand. Penguin was gentle and, if it was even possible for a dog to be so, polite as he took the cookie from Enjolras’ hand. Enjolras crouched down and scratched at Penguin’s sides.

“Let’s feed him and then we can take him for a walk.” Enjolras went into the pantry and cut open the bag of kibble with his pocket knife. He read the serving size for a dog Penguin’s size and got out a measuring cup, pouring the kibble into the red bowl and splashing water into the matching bowl.

Enjolras set the bowls down. Penguin walked up to the dishes and sat down.

“Grantaire, what is he doing? Why isn’t he eating?” Enjolras was a little more than worried.

“I think he’s waiting.” Grantaire replied.

“For what?”

“For us to tell us it’s okay to eat.”

“He’s really that well trained?”

“It looks like it.”

Enjolras looked down at the dog, Penguin looked up at him,

“Go ahead Penguin, eat.” Enjolras said. Penguin gave him what seemed to be the dog’s equivalent of a smile and wagged his tail the entire time he ate. Enjolras and Grantaire microwaved leftover pizza and quickly chatted about their next meeting before Penguin put his paw on Enjolras’ knee, standing up on his hind legs, “You ready for a walk, Bud, huh?” Enjolras itched behind the dog’s ears. Penguin yipped and licked his hand, dropping back down onto the floor and scampering to the door, his nails clicking on the hardwood floors. He grabbed his leash and dragged it over to Grantaire, who delightedly clipped it onto Penguin’s collar.

“Great, so he can tell us when he wants to go outside.” R blew a strand of hair out of his eyes and stuffed his feet into his boots. Enjolras put on his jacket and followed Grantaire out the door, Penguin contently padding along between them. Penguin once again braved the elevator with less confusion and they headed in no direction in particular, they just walked, Penguin sniffing and looking at everything, taking in the new landscape.

“Hey!” They heard from behind them and turned around. Courfeyrac was sprinting towards them at full speed, “Puppy!” He screeched. Penguin hid behind Enjolras’ legs, watching Courf as he put on the brakes just in front of them, “You guys weren’t joking! You actually got a dog!” Courfeyrac plopped down on the sidewalk, holding out his hand to Penguin. Penguin nuzzled into the backs of Enjolras’ knees.

“It’s okay Penguin.” Enjolras rubbed the dog’s face and sat down next to Courfeyrac, “Courfeyrac is a friend.” Penguin timidly stepped towards Courfeyrac, his ears down and his tail rigid.

“Hiya critter.” Courfeyrac scratched under his chin. Penguin’s ears popped up and his tag started going again, rubbing his face on Courfeyrac’s legs and rolling over. Courf rubbed his belly and told him what a good dog he was, “Please bring him to the next meeting” Courfeyrac pleaded, Penguin finally rolling back onto his feet and scratching at his ear.

“We’ll see.” Enjolras chuckled.

“We’ll see you around?” Grantaire asked Courf, helping him up from the sidewalk.

“Yes!” Courfeyrac grinned, “Especially if your new ‘we’ involves the cutest dog in the world.” Courfeyrac squished his own cheeks. “I’ll see you at the meeting!” He scurried off towards his own apartment.

“See you!” Grantaire called with a wave, “I’m kind of tired now. I want to watch Penguin try to get peanut butter out of his new toy.” He put his forehead on Enjolras’ shoulder.

“Alright, let’s head back, it’s getting dark anyways.”

 

This time, when faced with the elevator, Penguin happily hopped on, his fear eradicated. Grantaire hung the leash on the hook and went to the cabinet, pulling out the jar of peanut butter. Enjolras unwrapped the toy and tossed it to Grantaire. Penguin watched them, jumping up to catch the rubber plaything. Grantaire grabbed a knife from the drawer and stuck it into the jar. Penguin sat down, panting and whining. R spread the lump of creamy nutty goodness on the inside of the toy and tossed it to Penguin.

Penguin was excited and jumped up to catch it until he realized the toy was too big for his mouth. He squeaked, letting the toy bounce on the floor before pouncing on it. He gnawed and stuck his tongue in the toy, desperately trying to get the reward inside. Enjolras and Grantaire sat on the couch and laughed as Penguin rolled around on the floor with the new toy, whining and chewing, slowly working out the peanut butter. Once it was in his mouth, it stuck to the roof of his mouth. Penguin was perplexed, smacking his tongue on the sticky paste, rolling on his back, hopelessly confused. This went on for almost a half an hour before Enjolras had to go to bed for work the next day.

Grantaire kissed him goodnight and told him he'd be in bed soon enough. Enjolras nodded, gave Penguin a few affectionate pats and retired. Penguin continued to play in a constant state of distress at the peanut butter still locked inside of the toy. Grantaire walked into his studio and returned to the living room with his pastels and a sketch pad. He perched himself on the sofa and started to sketch out Penguin's form. Penguin eventually gave up on the peanut butter and discovered the wonders of a new dog bed. He pounced on top and rolled around, dragging it over to the center of the living room instead of behind the chair. He walked around in circles until finally dropping his entire chunky weight onto the cushion. Grantaire squeaked and drew him again and again and again. His dog was the easiest thing to draw and one of the most fun.

Grantaire drew until he couldn't keep his eyes open. He kissed the top of Penguin's head and put his drawings on the kitchen island, tossing his vest into the laundry basket and snuggling in with Enjolras.

* * *

 

Enjolras slammed his hand on the alarm clock, groaning and rubbing his eyes. He felt the bed shift and was greeted with a myriad of sand-papery dog kisses. Enjolras wiped at his face and wrapped his arms around his dog, putting his face in his fur, "You want to go for a run, boy?" Enjolras itched the dog's hindquarters. Penguin licked his face again, "Alright, let's go." Enjolras quickly pulled on his running gear and Penguin nudged his ankles whenever he slowed down, his breed was a herding dog after all. Enjolras finally clipped the leash to Penguin's collar and they took the stairs down to the lobby and out onto the street.

Penguin was a natural fitness dog, keeping pace with Enjolras as they ran to the park, around the fountain, and back to the apartment. Penguin stuck his face into his water bowl and Enjolras heavily drank from his water bottle. He plopped a few ice cubes into Penguin's bowl and the dog lapped more intensely at the water and chewed on the cubes. Enjolras smiled, realizing why this previous owners had named him Penguin. He put a scoop of kibble into Penguin's bowl and went back into his room, running his fingers along Grantaire's bare feet. Grantaire squeaked and kicked at the sheets. Enjolras stripped off his sweaty clothing and grabbed a towel. Grantaire groaned and rolled over. Enjolras tickled his feet again on his way out.

"I hate you." Grantaire moaned, burying his toes under the blankets, covering his head with his pillow.

"Penguin likes ice in his water." Enjolras said, closing the bathroom door and taking a quick, cold shower. With a towel wrapped around his waist, Enjolras quickly got dressed for work, giving himself enough time to make a cup of coffee and a bowl of instant oatmeal. Grantaire had rolled out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen, the entire bedspread pulled around his shoulders, "Good morning, there are bagels in the freezer." Enjolras kissed Grantaire's forehead and pulled his suit jacket over his button down shirt. Penguin wagged and panted, trailing behind Enjolras and turning back to Grantaire who put his bagel in the toaster, still squinting and covering his head with the blankets to shield himself with the blankets. Penguin licked his toes and  sat down in front of him.

"I can't believe you made him a morning person already." Grantaire grumbled, pouring Irish liquor into his coffee.

"Try to get some new project done while I'm at work." Enjolras opened the door. Penguin yipped and ran towards Enjolras at full speed, slamming into his knees, whining and nipping at Enjolras' pants.

"He doesn't want you to go, Apollo." Grantaire smirked, sipping his spiked coffee and closing the curtain by the kitchen sink. Enjolras pouted and bent down, giving Penguin a loving rub.

"I'll be back before you know it boy, keep him busy for me, huh?" He itched his dog's ears. Penguin licked his hand and Enjolras grabbed his briefcase and slipped out the door with Grantaire distracting Penguin with the tiny giraffe toy and treats. Grantaire sat down in his easy chair and pulled his knees up to his chest, tightly clutching his mug. Penguin contently tossed his giraffe around and scratched the floors with his claws. Grantaire was finally waking up, but was still too lazy to get up and get his sketch pad that he'd left on the island.

"Penguin," Grantaire moaned. The dog trotted up, plushy animal between his teeth, "Penguin, get my sketch pad." The drunk pointed towards the counter. Penguin dropped the toy and nudged it towards Grantaire, "No Penguin, sketch pad." He groaned. An idea finally dawned on him. "Okay Mr. 'Guin, I'll play with you if you fetch my sketch pad with this." R picked up the giraffe and tossed it towards the island. It landed just short of the island. Penguin flung himself towards the toy and tripped over the rug, sliding towards the toy. He jumped right up and grabbed the giraffe, carefully watching the rug as he stepped over it again and dropped it at the feet. Grantaire picked it up and tossed it across the room again, getting the giraffe to hand on the top of his sketch pad. Penguin dashed over and jumped up and grabbed the giraffe and the sketchpad and his mouth and pulled them off the counter, then happily trotted back to Grantaire, “You are the best dog ever.” Grantaire leaned down and kissed above Penguin’s eyebrow and gave him another toy to play with.  Grantaire had finished his second cup of coffee and managed the strength to get his supplies out of his studio and had set up his easel in the kitchen.

“Alright Penguin, just be yourself.” Grantaire grinned and started in with watercolors, oil paints, colored pencils, charcoal, and any other medium he had to work with. Enjolras walked in from work to find paper and canvases all over the floor with drawings and paintings of Penguin in various poses. Grantaire was sitting on the floor with Penguin and dipping his paw in ink before placing it onto the paper next to his signature. Penguin ran over to Enjolras, leaving black paw prints along the floor as he went. Grantaire looked up at the clock, “Hi! Welcome home! I was very busy, I would have gotten dinner started, but, uh-yeah.”

Enjolras laughed and put down his stuff to pet Penguin, “It’s fine, I’m glad you got so much done.” Enjolras picked up a small canvas with one hand while scratching Penguin’s back with the other, “These are really great.”

“Thanks, I’ll get cleaned up and I’ll start cooking.” Grantaire hopped up and gathered his dry works and stacked canvases. He took everything under his arms, and in one trip, moved everything back into his studio, hanging up his smock. He passed the mirror in the hall and shrugged when he saw the paint smeared across his face. He dug through the pantry until he had a meal in mind. Enjolras had cleaned the ink off of the floor and Penguin sat on his bed, shaking his rope toy.

“So what’s for dinner?” Enjolras hung his jacket onto a hook and rolled up his sleeves.

“Food.” Grantaire put a pot of water on the stove and went about cutting up raw chicken.

“What kind of food?”

“Macaroni and cheese with sauteed chicken triangles.”

“Why triangles?” Enjolras picked a knife out of the block and started to cut the meat next to Grantaire.

“Because triangles are the best shape.” Grantaire put the triangles into a bowl and put another two pans on the stove and tossing in  thick pats of butter. After maiming the last few pieces of chicken, Grantaire gave up and dumped the actually decent shapes into the pan with a hiss, “Hey, watch this. Penguin!” Grantaire called, holding up the handful of rejected chicken pieces. The dog came flopping over and sat down in front of the cynic, “I taught him a new trick.” Grantaire explained.

“Alright, show me your dog training prowess.”

“Gladly.” Grantaire crinkled his nose and held his hands over Penguin. The dog spotted the chicken in R’s hand and his tail thumped against the floor, “Penguin, dance for me please.” Grantaire made a circular motion with his wrist. Penguin balanced up on his hind legs and turned in a circle. Grantaire turned his wrist again, Penguin rotated again, “Good boy Penguin!” Grantaire tossed the meaty treat to the Dog. Penguin seemed pleased with himself as he slurped and squished the raw chicken.

“Very impressive.” Enjolras nodded. Grantaire bowed and washed his hands, starting in on the cheese part. There was abuzz on the intercom. Grantaire sheepishly looked over at Enjolras.

“I may or may not have invited everyone over to meet Penguin.” He dumped two boxes of shells into the boiling water and simpered. Enjolras rolled his eyes and went to the box, buzzing them in, Penguin at his heels. He opened the door to find Courfeyrac, Jehan, Combeferre, and Bahorel at the door, all holding various foods and gifts for the dog.

“Come on in.” Enjolras opened the door all the way and Penguin saw all of the people out in the hall. He yipped and ran into the living room, wiggling his way under the couch and growling. Enjolras followed him as the guys came in, closing the door behind them and migrating towards the kitchen. Enjolras crouched down next to the sofa and tried to coax Penguin out from underneath, “Come on out, bud, this is your extended family, come on.” Enjolras rubbed underneath Penguin’s chin. The dog licked his fingers and tried to fanagle his way out. Combeferre lifted the couch and Penguin pulled free, immediately starting to circle the stranger to see if he liked him.

Jehan put his tube of tennis balls on the counter and started to add spice to Grantaire’s cooking. R slapped his hand, “No, my recipe, don’t mess around with it.” Jehan slithered away, joining Courfeyrac and Combeferre on the carpet as they played with Penguin, two was determined to win tug of war. The doorbell rang again and another slew of people came in, Penguin ignoring them because Courfeyrac and Jehan were giving him the greatest belly rub of his life.

“You’re such a marshmallow!” Courfeyrac buried his face in the dog’s coat and Cosette sat down next to them. Penguin rolled right over and put his head in her lap. Courfeyrac and Jehan frowned at her.

“I have a way with animals.” She cooed, stroking Penguin’s ears.

“A way with animals my-”

“DINNER’S READY!” Grantaire shouted over the din of voices and clinking glasses as Marius broke out the wine. They all took their regular places around the coffee table and perched on the couch arms and various people sitting in laps and Penguin just sat by his empty bowl. The rest of the company arrived and they all began to eat. Penguin just sat by his empty bowl. It took Enjolras a few minutes to figure out why the dog hadn’t joined him on the couch with Grantaire.

“Oh my god.” He put down his plate and went into the kitchen, “I am a terrible puppy daddy.” Enjolras dropped a measured cup of kibble into Penguin’s bowl and dropped a few ice cubes into the water, “Go ahead, Buddy.” Penguin thankfully buried his face into the bowl and Enjolras returned to his spot. Penguin padded over a few minutes later and jumped onto the sofa and spread across Grantaire and Enjolras’ laps. There was a collective ‘aw’ (There’s a collective fucking aww from paige) and Joly snapped a picture, even though he hadn’t touched or come near the dog since he’d arrived, and he was pretty sure that this was the last time he was coming over for a while. Once all of the plates had been unceremoniously put into the dishwasher, everyone once again gathered to give Penguin his presents. Penguin was delightfully overwhelmed and had to smell everything that passed in front of his face. After all of the gifts had been given, Penguin grabbed his giraffe and fell asleep on his cushion, exhausted from the social demands of being an adorable dog.

* * *

 

The holidays were arriving fast and it was time for Enjolras and Grantaire to decide what to do for their Christmas Card. Last year they’d set up a camera to take a picture every few seconds while they baked cookies. They’d decided on the picture of them attacking each other with frosting. But this year when they sat down to brainstorm, they knew exactly what they were going to do. The Entlebucher Mountain Dog was a known cart pulling dog, so Grantaire purchased a dog cart and they put a pair of fabric reindeer antlers on Penguin’s head. And they decorated the cart with strings of tinsel and filled with styrofoam cubes wrapped in various colored papers that Penguin had been caught chewing on more than once.

Grantaire set up the camera and let the cuteness begin. They tossed various stuffed penguin toys at the dog and he hopped up and down trying to catch them. Then, they unhooked the cart and got into the shots themselves, playing with the stuffed penguins and the dog licking at their faces before they finally decided to abandon the idea and turned on their fake fireplace and nestled in with cups of cocoa. Penguin tossed himself down in front of the false flames and promptly fell asleep. Grantaire set up the camera perfectly to catch the dog asleep, the fireplace, and the two of them clinking mugs. Satisfied with this shot, Grantaire got to work editing together the card while Enjolras mixed together a new batch of eggnog.

When it was finally done, Grantaire printed one out a photo paper and snuggled next to Enjolras on the couch. Enjolras smiled at the snowy border around the image and flipped it open, “Holiday Greetings from Enjolras, Grantaire, and Penguin. Have comfy Christmas and a Happy New Year.” Enjolras kissed the top of Grantaire’s head, “A great shot again this year.” Grantaire nodded and printed out two dozen more, and the two of them signed them, stuck them in envelopes, and addressed each one, “I’ll send these out tomorrow.” Enjolras yawned.

“Come on, time for bed.” Grantaire grabbed his wrist and dragged Enjolras down the hall and turned on the Christmas lights that he’d hung up in their room. Enjolras grinned and they hunkered down under all of the quilts Jehan had made them over the years. They heard the tinkling of what seemed to be jingle bells before they heard Penguin’s panting. The dog jumped up on the bed. Enjolras didn’t mind. It was the holidays and holidays meant being with your family. Penguin paced around in a circle before settling down near the end of the bed, “Goodnight Enjolras.” Grantaire dreamily sighed.

“Goodnight Grantaire. Goodnight Penguin.”

* * *

 

When Grantaire woke up, Enjolras had already left for work. He padded across the cold floors in his bare feet and found Penguin by the window, intensely staring at something, his breath fogging up the glass. Grantaire thought nothing of it and put his leftovers from the night before into the microwave and pouring his first glass of wine for the afternoon. He sat down in his chair and got out his phone, checking his email and surprised to find several offers for his water color series to be shown in galleries across town. They couldn’t get enough of Penguin. He agreed to have the paintings picked up tomorrow morning.

He quickly texted Enjolras about the exhibit dates and left himself a reminder to get his suit dry cleaned. He didn’t want to have to buy another suit, and it was a miracle the stains from the bloody marys had come out of the suit the last time. Penguin still stared out the window. He started to bark. Grantaire looked up from his phone. It wasn’t often that Penguin barked. Mostly when he was very excited about something or warning them about something. Grantaire walked over, trying to hush Penguin, who was barking madly and scratching the glass with his nails. Grantaire grabbed Penguin’s collar and pulled him away from the window, “What’s wrong with you?” Grantaire pulled the shades down. He let go of Penguin’s collar and the dog pounced on a tennis ball, reverting back to his normal, silly self.

Grantaire sat back down and sent out a mass text to his friends about the gallery exhibits and watched Penguin. It was if nothing had irked the dog and as long as the shades were down, he ignored the window. Grantaire looked out himself, and saw nothing, just the deck and the few pathetic plants wilting on the banister. Jehan would be so disappointed.

* * *

 

The next week was Penguin’s one year anniversary with them. They bought him a few new toys and a cake. They put on dog themed party hats onto their heads and took dozens of pictures. They took a walk down by the river and Penguin barked at the fish that swam past. Enjolras and Grantaire laughed and they headed home, curling in on the couch for a movie. They watched the animated Balto film and Penguin fell asleep with his head in Grantaire’s lap. Enjolras took a picture.

“A year ago today we added Penguin to our family and everyday since has been a joy. I’ve never been so happy than in the past year with a great dog and a great boyfriend. Happy Adoption Day Penguin! #mypuppysgrowingup #proudpuppydaddy”

* * *

 

It was the opening night of Grantaire’s exhibit at a locally renown gallery in town. He gussied up and walked into the party with Enjolras on his arm, Penguin in a sleek black collar padding in front of them. The party guests in attendance applauded and Grantaire grinned. Les Amis were all there in their formal dress, wreaking havoc at the snacks table. Enjolras joined them while Grantaire conferenced with a few interested buyers.

Later in the evening, Grantaire had to make a speech. He hadn’t exactly written one down, but he knew exactly what he was going to say, “Good evening ladies and gentleman. If you don’t know me, I’m Grantaire. That’s it, just Grantaire, one name.” Everyone chuckled, “A few months ago, I was given the opportunity to adopt an amazing dog from an animal shelter in town. When I first saw him, I knew he was going to be the perfect pet for my boyfriend and I. But, what I didn’t know was how much this animal was going to inspire me. The works of art you see today are all in a way, inspired by my dog, Penguin, and my love of him, and his love of life. My world was brightened by such a radiant creature who seemed to spread positivity wherever he went, and I hope I managed to capture the way he sees the world and the way I see the world through him. Thank you, and enjoy the party.” Everyone applauded and Grantaire stepped down from the podium.

Enjolras put his hands around his waist, “Looks like you’re not getting all of the attention.” He pointed to where Penguin sat on the floor, being stroked and petted and fed the tiny hot dogs from the pigs in a blanket.

“What can I say? Our dog is a celebrity.”

* * *

 

It was a gorgeous day at the park. Enjolras lounged on the picnic blanket they’d set up while they waited for the rest of their friends to arrive. Penguin was playing fetch with Grantaire, the cool autumnal air giving him more energy than usual. He was well oiled running machine. He sprinted after each frisbee and sprinted back with it snagged between his jaws, “Lunch!” Enjolras called. His two favorite fuzzy boys ran over. Grantaire leaned his neck against Enjolras’ legs, Penguin flopped onto his stomach. They quickly ate their sandwiches and fed Penguin lunch meat. Enjolras took out his phone and took a picture of all three of them. He posted it to his social media. “Just another perfect day with my boys” #mypuppies

“Care to play with us?” Grantaire held up a tennis ball. Penguin nuzzled his arm, trying to take the ball away from him.

“Sure, let’s go.” Enjolras put his wallet and his keys into his pockets and they walked out to a clear space in the park and started to toss the ball around.

“Penguin! Go long!” Grantaire wound up and threw the ball as hard as he could. It flew over the trees and into a patch of bushes on the far side of the park. Penguin eagerly ran with all of his strength to catch the ball. He sniffed out the ball, the balls Grantaire threw always smelled like wine and pencil shavings. He pushed his way through the bushes until he found the ball, nestled between the line of grass and the curb. He cautiously approached the road.

“Penguin!” He heard Enjolras call from a distance. He picked up the ball and looked around, trying to point himself in the right direction, his bandana whipping in the breeze. The driver in the SUV barreled down the street, even though it was a slow zone. He watched as the dog approached the curb. His sick mind swerved, his tires squealing as the fender hit the dog. It was the owners fault for not keeping their animal on a leash. He peeled out, continuing to speed down the road.

The bright green tennis ball rolled into the road.

* * *

 

“Penguin!” Enjolras shouted again, heading in the direction their dog had sprinted off to. They heard the screeching tires and started to sprint.

“Penguin!” Grantaire gasped, sprinting ahead of Enjolras and tearing through the foliage, Enjolras right behind him. Enjolras finally pushed his way through the shrubs to spot the tennis ball in the road and Grantaire knelt down by Penguin.

Penguin’s eyes were wide with fear. Grantaire tried to assessed the damage, but there was just so much blood. Penguin whimpered, trying to raise his head, “Shh-shh-shh.” Grantaire shakily laid his hand on his dog’s head. Penguin’s rib cage was rising and falling at an alarming rate, “Go get the car!” Grantaire whispered over his shoulder.

Enjolras nodded and sprinted off, pulling his phone out of his pocket and calling the vet. He unlocked the car and jumped in, pulling the car around to the hit and run scene, he got the vet’s voicemail. He threw his phone angrily into the passenger seat, “Dammit!” He stopped the car and got out.

Penguin pathetically licked at Grantaire’s hand, “Everything’s going to be okay, Grantaire won’t let you go.” Enjolras put his hand on R’s shoulder.

“Let’s get him in the car.”

Grantaire nodded and as gently as he could, lifted all sixty pounds of his dog and slid into the back seat with him, holding his head in his lap and stroking his head and his ears. Enjolras drove as fast as he could to the nearest vet. Grantaire wrapped Penguin in his jacket and handed him off to Enjolras who ran him into the animal hospital, “Help! My dog needs help!” Enjolras was immediately taken into an operating room where he gently placed Penguin on the table. Grantaire slowly clambered out of the car, shaking and making his way towards the doors.

“Josie, could you please escort this gentleman out.” The vet asked, starting to work on Penguin.

“Wait! No! I can’t leave him!” Enjolras pushed past Josie. Another vet tech entered the room and grabbed Enjolras’ arm.

“Sir, please, we can’t help him to the best of our ability unless you leave.”

“Fine.” Enjolras knew there was no way he was going to be allowed to stay. He was lead into the waiting room where Grantaire sat, on his phone, texting everyone why they weren’t going to be able to be at the picnic. He turned off his phone and tucked it into his pocket, not wanting to answer any questions until they knew what was going to happen with Penguin.

They held each other’s hands for ten minutes until the vet came out and shook her head, “There’s too much damage to fix. He’s in so much pain.” She explained. Grantaire squeezed Enjolras’ hand.

“What do you suggest we do?” Enjolras hoarsely asked.

“The best option is to put him down and put him out of his misery.” Enjolras looked at Grantaire. R nodded with a sniffle.

“If that’s what needs to be done.” Enjolras put his arm around Grantaire.

“Would you like to be with him?”

“Yes.” Grantaire croaked. They walked into the operating room. A white blanket covered Penguin from the neck down. Grantaire leaned heavily against Enjolras. The vet put on blue gloves. Enjolras and Grantaire gently cooed and stroked Penguin’s head and neck. The vet depressed the plunger on the syringe. Penguin licked Enjolras’ hand and his eyes slowly started to close. Enjolras kissed just above his eye and whispered goodbye. Penguin’s chest was finally still and his eyes were completely closed. The vet tech covered his head with the blanket.

Grantaire threw himself against Enjolras cried with such ferocity Enjolras had never seen before. Enjolras held him and put his cheek on top of his head, leading him out of the operating room.

* * *

 

Neither of them were in any condition to drive. Enjolras texted Combeferre and Courfeyrac and they came and picked them up. Grantaire had stopped crying and was clutching a small black box in his arms. Combeferre offered his condolences and Courfeyrac offered his hugs. Combeferre took them home in his car and Courfeyrac took Enjolras’ car to the garage to get the blood out of the backseat.

Grantaire hadn’t spoken a word since they’d gotten the ashes, and just held the box and stared out the window on the ride home. Enjolras held Penguin’s collar and bandana in his hands, rubbing his fingers over Penguin’s name on his license. Combeferre pulled up to the apartment building and Enjolras thanked him for the ride.

“If you need any of us, just call, we’ll be over as soon as we can. I’m so sorry guys, I know how much you loved him.”

“We loved him too.” Enjolras got out of the car. Grantaire silently took the elevator next to Enjolras and they stepped into their apartment filled with memories.

Dog toys were strewn all over the floor and the dishes were in their regular place by the counter. Grantaire released a shuddering sigh and went straight to the bedroom, closing and locking the door behind him.

Enjolras hung his coat on the hook next to Penguin’s collar and leash. He pulled off his bloodstained shirt and put it into the laundry basket. He didn’t have the stomach to eat anything right now. He sat down on the sofa and put his phone on silent. He uncomfortably shifted and reached underneath his jeans. Penguin’s giraffe smiled up at him.

Enjolras broke down and clutched the toy to his chest, sobbing and shaking until he was exhausted and fell asleep on the couch, his hands still gripped around the toy.

* * *

 

The next week was the hardest. Grantaire hardly ever left the bedroom except to use the bathroom or restock on alcohol from the kitchen. He hardly ate, and had lost his muse for his art. Enjolras explained everything over text message to his friends and slowly went about putting Penguin’s things into a cardboard box. Enjolras returned to work two days after the accident and asked Ferre to check on Grantaire sometime during the day. Ferre opened the door with the key Enjolras had given to him at around noon.

“Grantaire? Are you here, Bud?” Ferre closed the door behind him. He walked down the hall and opened the door to the bedroom. Grantaire was in fetal position, fully clothed, tangled in the sheets with Penguin’s box of ashes hugged close to his chest, and a half empty bottle dangling from his fingers. The entire room smelled like stale booze. Ferre sighed and picked up all the bottles, including the one in R’s hand. R’s eyes snapped open. He glared at Ferre with a flaming sorrow. Combeferre took the bottles and left, Grantaire not having to say a word with his mouth. Combeferre put the empty bottles into the recycling bin and called Enjolras.

“How’s he doing?” Enjolras picked up after the second ring.

“He’s pretty messed up, I found over a dozen empty bottles of liquor in your bedroom.”

Enjolras sighed on the other side of the line, “He won’t let me in, I’ve been sleeping on the couch for four days now, I’m really worried about him, but I don’t know how to help him. I’m grieving too, but I- he’s blaming himself for Penguin’s death.”

“Yeah, I completely understand, do you want me to take all of the remaining hard stuff back to my place?”

“That’d be great, thank you. I’ll talk to him when I get home tonight if he’ll let me.”

“Is there anything else you want me to do while I’m here?”

“Just take the alcohol for now.”  
“Alright, I’m sorry I can’t do more.”

“It’s alright. I’ll be home in a few hours, thanks for checking up on him.”

“No problem.

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

Combeferre put the remaining bottles into a box and drove home with them in the trunk.

* * *

 

Grantaire came out of the bedroom about an hour after Combeferre left. He was starving, although he didn’t really feel like eating. Penguin’s toys and food dishes had been put away, R didn’t know where. He put Penguin’s ashes on the window sill and wandered around the apartment, looking for Penguin to jump up from his dog bed, or be napping on the sofa, but he was in the box on the sill. Grantaire groaned and rubbed his face. He had a full-on beard now and felt disgusting. But he really didn’t care. His dog was dead and it felt like a part of him was too. He wandered into his art studio.

Enjolras got into his car to come home from work.

Grantaire looked around, almost every piece of paper and canvas had his dog plastered all over it. They were the ones he’d refused to sell. They were his favorites when Penguin was alive, but now they were just painful to look at.

Enjolras placed an order on the phone at Grantaire’s favorite Indian restaurant. He picked it up ten minutes later.

Grantaire grabbed a stack of canvases and sketch pads and found a lighter and a box cutter blade among the organized chaos. He closed and locked the door so it could just be him and his dog. He picked up the first charcoal drawing and ran the corner over the flame of the lighter. He dropped the blazing portrait fall into a large metal bowl on the floor and repeated this with half a sketchbook before moving on to the canvases. He took the box cutter and sliced through the material, cutting Penguin out of the wooden frame. He held it up and slashed his knife across the painting. He let out an agonized scream.

Enjolras prepared what he was going to say to Grantaire when he got home.

Grantaire kept lighting pages and tears started the stream down his cheeks. He slashed another painting, and another, and kept lighting pages until he was surrounded by small plumes of smoke.

Enjolras parked his car and waved to the doorman in the lobby. He took the elevator up and isolated his house key while he waited. The food smelled amazing. He strolled down the hall and unlocked the door, hanging up his coat, “Grantaire! I brought food from Bombay Gardens!” He smelled the smoke and dropped the paper bag on the counter, sprinting down the hall, “Grantaire!” He checked the bedroom and tried to open the studio door. “Grantaire! Open the door! What are you doing?!” Enjolras hammered on the door. There was silence on the other side with Grantaire lit another sheet.

Enjolras back up as far as he could, aiming his foot for above the door knob. He kicked the door in, the door trim splintering off as the lock ripped out of the wall.  Smoke assaulted his nose and he coughed, waving it away from him, his eyes watering. He spotted Grantaire slicing canvases with  fierce concentration, “Grantaire!”

R looked up, coughing and crying. Enjolras rushed at him, pulling him up from under his arms and dragged him out into the hall. Grantaire sat in the hall while Enjolras dashed back into the studio and opened the windows and stomped at the flaming sheets of papers, like dead black butterflies dusted across the floor. Enjolras was near tears, he couldn’t believe Grantaire would cause this much destruction in his grief. In this way, Grantaire really had killed Penguin. He was taking away all of the good memories and beautiful depictions of their dog. Enjolras stood in the doorway, looking down at R who hugged his legs and rested his chin on his knees.

“Why?” He simply asked.

“I don’t know.”

“I know you miss him, and I know it’ll take time to adjust to life without him, but you can’t do dangerous things like that, even if it’s part of your grieving process.” Enjolras sat down next to him and put his hand on Grantaire’s knee.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know, I forgive you.”

“I don’t know what to do with myself anymore.”

“Like I said, it will take time, but we’ll eventually come out on top like we always do.” Enjolras put his arm around Grantaire’s shoulder. Grantaire leaned into his chest.

“I really miss him.” He whispered.

“Me too.”

“I killed him.”

“No you didn’t! Some terrible person did! You didn’t do anything!”

“I threw the ball.”

“But you didn’t kill him.”

“I don’t know what to think about that.”

“You didn’t kill him.” Enjolras repeated.

They sat in a moment of silence before Grantaire spoke again.

“You brought food?” He purred.

Enjolras chuckled, the first time he’d laughed in days, “Yes, I got you Paani Poori, but you can only have it after you shower and shave.”

“Awwww.”

“Yep, sorry, thems the rules.” Enjolras hesitantly kissed the top of Grantaire’s greasy crown of hair and helped him up. R sighed and grabbed a towel from the laundry room and trudged into the bathroom, scrubbing himself down with medical efficiency and shaving his face so he didn’t feel like a hermit anymore.

He pulled on sort-of clean clothes and joined Enjolras at the kitchen island, pulling up a stool and ravenously digging into his first meal in days.

“I’m never not eating again.” He happily groaned between puffs of bread being shoved into his mouth.

“Where do you think we should put the ashes?” Enjolras pointed to the box on the window sill.

Grantaire swallowed, “I don’t know, it’s kind of sad to keep them around, do you want to scatter them?”

“Where is the question?”

“He really liked the Seine, we could scatter them there, sort of have a funeral-like service so we can sort of have a bit of closure?”

“That’s a really good idea. We should pick the next sunny day this week and have all of our friends come down by the river and we can finally put him to rest and put our minds at ease.”

“Sounds wonderful, he would love it.”

“I think he would too.”

* * *

 

“Jehan, I know you prepared a small poem to read, would you like to do that now?” Enjolras asked as Les Amis sat in a circles by the shore of the Seine around pictures of Penguin and in the very center, his little black box. Jehan cleared his throat and began to speak from memory, his voice steady and haunting.

 

“Dear Penguin

We miss you so little friend

It's hard to say this is the end

You filled us with so much joy

You always were such a good boy

 

Your nose always wet

Remember the time you stole Feuilly's baguette?

And the times we took you to the park

And rarely did you ever bark

 

With heavy hearts we say goodbye

We know you wouldn't want us to cry

We now commit you to the water

To float along like an otter

 

Dear Penguin

We miss you so little friend

It's hard to say this is the end

You filled us with so much joy

You always were such a good boy”

 

There was not a dry eye as Grantaire and Enjolras picked up the box from the center of the circle, “Thanks Jehan.” Grantaire nodded, “Penguin was a great dog. It was smart, he was loyal, he was the best dog anyone could ever hope to have. I’m sad that such a magnificent animal was only given so much time with us, but I know that if I had the option to choose either never having him in my life or going through his passing, I’d pick this a hundred times, because the happiness I experienced in the year or so that we had him, was one of the best years of my life, and I owe it all to him, and to you all.” Enjolras kissed his temple.

“Are you ready?” Enjolras asked.

“As I’ll ever be.” Grantaire stood and walked to the river bank. Les Amis picked up their candles and followed, “Goodbye Penguin, I’ll never forget you.” Grantaire opened the lid to the box and together, he and Enjolras dumped the ashes into the river and watched them float away. Les Amis dropped flower petals and floating candles in after him, and they floated out of sight.

* * *

 

They were starting to gain a new rhythm in their apartment without their four-legged friend. They kept finding toys and putting them into the box that they kept in the closet, slowly making progress towards getting all of Penguin’s stuff put away. Grantaire had made a point of printing out photos of them and Penguin and putting them in frames he’d rescued from a garage sale and put them around the apartment. Enjolras was proud of him and had made a sort-of morning ritual of touching Penguin’s license on his way out the door.

The day finally came, months after Penguin’s passing, that they finally put the small stuffed giraffe on top of the pile of toys and beds and dishes, and closed the box, taping it up and pushing it into the back of the closet, simply labeled with a black permanent marker “Penguin”

They’d finally come to accept it, and they were actually okay with just remembering Penguin as the good dog he was.

* * *

 

It was date night. Enjolras and Grantaire were making their own pizzas and contently throwing cilantro leaves at each other. Quiet symphonic music was playing from Enjolras’ mp3 player. They’d popped the pizzas into the oven and sat across from each other at the kitchen island, holding each other’s hands and sipping on small glasses of wine while the rain came down outside.

“I think I’m going to make a series of portraits.” Grantaire hummed, rubbing his thumb on the back of Enjolras’ hand.

“Yeah?” Enjolras replied, “What of?”

“Our friends as rich aristocrats.”

“Why aristocrats?”

“You know those classic portraits where everyone looks kind of pissed off and their wearing like military garb or a like, a really fancy dress or some shit, I think it’d be awesome to paint everyone like that.”

“That’d be pretty funny.”

“I know that’s why I’m…” Grantaire looked around the kitchen for the scratching noise that had pulled his attention away from the conversation at hand.

“You’re what?” Enjolras let go of his hand.

“Do you hear that?” Grantaire got up from his stool.

“What? The rain?” Enjolras paused and listened, his ears catching the faint scratching as well over the pitter-patter of water droplets, “Oh, yeah. What is that?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be looking for it.”

“Well then.” Enjolras scoffed and checked the pizzas while Grantaire dropped to the floor, searching for the source.

“I think it’s coming from outside.” Grantaire stood and opened the door to the deck. A flash of grey whipped past him and hid under the couch, “ENJOLRAS IT’S A RAT!” Grantaire screeched, jumping away from the trail of water the sopping wet animal had made.

Enjolras closed the oven door and stood next to R, “Where did it go?”

“Up my ass, Apollo! It’s underneath the sofa!” Grantaire skittered away to find a cardboard box. Enjolras pulled a dish towel from a drawer and cautiously approached the couch, quietly sitting down and listening, “I got a box!” Grantaire hissed, running up to the couch. There was a thud against the wall and the grey streak tore behind the armchair.

“I don’t think it’s a rat, R.” Enjolras took the box from him and put it in front of the armchair and stuffed the towel underneath the other side. He shifted over so he was the only obstacle the critter had to get through, since the chair was pushed up against the wall, “I’m going to reach underneath.” He rolled up his sleeve.”

“Enjolras, don’t.”

“I don’t think it’s a rat, if worst come to worse, I get bitten or clawed and we go to the hospital.”

“That’s a very bad scenario and not helping.”

“I thought you were Mr. Nature.” Enjolras steadied himself on his knees, resting his shoulder on the floor, looking underneath the chair.

“No! I’m not! But Jehan is! He loves things that crawl and have no real purpose! We should call him- ENJOLRAS NO!” Grantaire put his hands over his face as Enjolras stuck his arm underneath the chair.

His fingers brushed it, it was completely soaking wet. He heard a pathetic mew.

“Oh my gosh Grantaire.” Enjolras held his hand out flat beneath the chair, “Grantaire, it’s a kitten.”

“What?” Grantaire crouched down, not really all that worried about rats anymore.

“Listen.” Enjolras rubbed his finger under what he thought was the cat’s chin. It began to purr.

“Oh my goodness,” Grantaire gasped.

“Help me lift the chair.” Enjolras grunted, pulling with his free hand. Grantaire easily tilted the chair to reveal a shivering ball of fluff cowering between the towel and the wall. Enjolras reached his other hand in and scooped up the kitten and wrapped it in the towel, “Come here little one.” Enjolras dried off between it’s ears. It mewed again, it’s eyes focusing on his face.

Enjolras went over to the door and lifted the shade, looking out into the rainy deck and didn’t see anymore cats of any kind.

“Do we have any cans of tuna in the pantry?”

“Let me check.” Grantaire frowned and scavenged into the back of the shelves and finally emerged with a can of tuna that hadn’t yet expired, “Found one.” He scraped some into a dish and slid it onto the counter. The kitten had climbed out of Enjolras’ blanket nest and was crawling over his chest and onto his shoulder.

“Come here, Love, let’s get some food in you.” Enjolras laid the towel on the counter and then painfully managed to get the kitten’s claws out of his sweater.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to keep it here?” Grantaire pulled the pizzas out of the oven and they cut them into slices.

“We’re feeding it and we’ll take it to the vet tomorrow.” Enjolras bit into his slice.

“Wait, it’s sleeping here?” Grantaire pointed to the kitten who mushed the tuna fish with it’s baby teeth.

“Yeah, why? What’s your problem? We’re helping out a helpless animal.” Enjolras pushed his plate away from him.

“I don’t have a problem.” Grantaire scoffed.

“You obviously do, what’s wrong with us helping this kitten?” Enjolras crossed his arms.

“It doesn’t feel right, is all.” R mumbled.

“What do you mean it doesn’t feel right? It’s a kitten that needed to get away from the rain.”

“I just don’t like having it in the apartment.”

“Why not?” Enjolras raised his voice.

“Because it’s not Penguin, that’s why, okay?” Grantaire shouted. The kitten hunched down and its ears pressed flat against its head.

“I thought we’d moved past this! He died months ago! There’s nothing we can do about it.” Enjolras put his hands on the counter.

“Well, I didn’t move past it yet! And I’m not ready for another animal in my house right now.”

“Fine! I’ll take it to the vet tomorrow morning and dump it off at a rescue if that’s what you want!”

“Yes! Get rid of it!” Grantaire threw his hands up in the air. Enjolras grabbed his plate, pushed it into the fridge, and grabbed the kitten, wrapping it up in the towel and another blanket. He snagged the box off the floor and put the small nest inside, “What are you doing now?” Grantaire demanded.

“I’m going to Jehan’s.”

“Really? You’re leaving me alone on date night for a stupid cat?!” Grantaire shrieked. Enjolras shoved his feet into his boots and grabbed his coat and his keys, slamming the door behind him without another word.

Grantaire threw himself onto the couch and turned on the television, knowing there was no booze in the house, he would have to entertain himself without it, “Stupid cat.” He grumbled and changed the channel.

* * *

 

Enjolras tucked the box into the passenger seat and drove a couple blocks down to Jehan’s. He left the box in the car for only a moment and hit the buzzer next to Jehan’s apartment number, Jean Prouvaire’s raspy voice crackled onto the speaker, “Hello?” Enjolras could hear chatter in the background.

“Hey Jehan, it’s Enjolras, can I crash with you for the night?” Courfeyrac’s voice shouted into the intercom.

“Sorry Enjolras, we’re really drunk and naked, you could come up if you wanted, but I don’t think you’d be interested.”

“No, definitely not, I’ll talk to you guys later.” Enjolras sighed and got back into the car, headed for Ferre’s. The kitten stuck it’s head out of the box and mewed at him. Enjolras gave a smile smiled and scratched between it’s ears. Enjolras took the box with him this time and hit the buzzer to Combeferre’s apartment.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Enjolras, can I come crash with you for the night?”

“Yeah, come right up.” Ferre buzzed Enjolras in and he took the elevator to the ninth floor. His curls had been weighed down by the rainwater and stuck to his face and neck. Combeferre opened the door.

“Holy crap. You look terrible.”

“Thanks, I know.”

“Come on in, what happened?”

“Grantaire and I had a stupid fight and I stormed out like an idiot.” Enjolras sighed and kicked off his shoes at the door, “I just think that we need a few hours away from each other.” Enjolras sat on the couch and opened the box, scooping up the kitten and placing it on his chest. Combeferre blinked a few times to really be sure if he was seeing what he was seeing.

“Is that a kitten?”

“Yes.”

“Is that what your fight was about?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you have a kitten?”

“It ran inside from the rain and I wanted to let it sleep in the apartment for the night, but Grantaire wanted nothing to do with it.”

“That’s not very Grantaire-ish of him.” Combeferre opened the refrigerator, “You want a beer?”

“Sure, thanks.” Enjolras nodded and ran his fingers down the kitten’s spine, it’s tiny tail flicking back and forth as it purred, “I know, it’s very odd. He was just really close to Penguin and I think that he believes that he’s replacing him if he lets another animal into the house.”

“It makes sense. So, are you going to keep the cat?”

“I don’t know. If Grantaire is still up-and-arms about it when I get home tomorrow morning, I guess I’ll give it to a shelter or a rescue to be adopted.”

“But do you want to keep the kitten?” Combeferre sat down and handed Enjolras his drink. The blond took it with a polite nod and sipped thoughtfully.

“I do. I think it’s time I had another pet.”

“You should explain that to Grantaire.”

“I will, in the morning, but for now, I think I’m going to give him some time to cool off.”

“Alright. Feel like watching the match?”

“Sure.” Enjolras shrugged and Combeferre turned on the television, “Let’s go France, come on you beautiful thing-gogogogogo-YES! YES! FRANCE TAKES THE LEAD!” Enjolras cheered, being mindful of the kitten that sat on his chest. When the match had ended and France had won, Combeferre called it quits and went to be.

“G’night! You know where the extra blankets are if you need them.” Ferre closed the door to his bedroom and clocked out as soon as his head hit the pillow. Enjolras got himself situated on the couch, putting the kitten in the box and folding his hands, placing them onto his chest and staring up at the ceiling.

He really shouldn’t have left like he did. He considered calling Grantaire and apologizing, but he really didn’t feel as if it was him who needed to apologize for anything, so instead he nodded off, feeling a bit guilty, but not guilty enough to keep him from sleeping. It was at the horrid hour of three in the morning, that small bridge between the black of night and the approaching light of day, that Enjolras woke up, having felt something touching him. He bolted upright and received a set of claws cutting into his chest. Enjolras drew air in through his teeth and laid back down, stroking the kitten’s head. It had crawled out of the box, up onto the sofa, and onto him. It had been a while since he’d felt a tiny heartbeat or feel the rise and fall of a cuddly creature other than Grantaire.

Enjolras found a sort of blissful peace in these sensations and drifted back to sleep, the kitten curled up on this t-shirt.

Enjolras awoke early and smiled to see the little cat rolling over and waking up itself. It yawned and mewed. Enjolras thought his heart was going to burst with this overload of cute. The kitten blinked its yellow eyes and stood up, leaping away from the sofa and onto the carpet. Enjolras quickly scooped up the kitten and went into the kitchen, scavenging until decided to cook up some eggs. The kitten sat on the counter and watched as Enjolras masterfully prepared scrambled eggs. Combeferre stumbled into the kitchen, still rubbing his eyes.

“What’s going on?”

“Breakfast.” Enjolras put a plate on the table. Ferre sat down and started eating. Enjolras joined him soon after, the kitten under his arm. Ferre grunted his thanks between heaping forkfuls and chewed happily. Enjolras cleared his plate and gathered his things, “Thanks for letting me crash.”

“No problem, text me how it goes with Grantaire.”

“Sure thing.” Enjolras giggled as the kitten crawled up his arm and perched on his shoulder. “Guess I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, I guess so Captain Enjolras.” Ferre grinned.

* * *

 

Grantaire was sitting at the kitchen island, nursing a cup of coffee when Enjolras came in with his kitten on his shoulder, “Hi.” R gave a tiny wave.

“Hi.” Enjolras kicked off his shoes and hung up his keys. He stopped and looked at Penguin’s collar, still hung on its hook. He ran his fingers over the license. Grantaire cleared this throat. Enjolras walked over and sat down.

“So I see you still have the cat.”

“Yes, I’d like to talk to you about it.”

“Enjolras-I.”

“I want to keep it as my pet. It doesn’t have to be ours, but I want to keep this kitten as my own.”

“But-”

“No, I’m keeping it.” Enjolras said firmly. Grantaire looked at him evenly and sighed.

“I thought about it last night and I think it would be a good idea if we got another pet. So I will adopt the cat with you.”

“Really?” Enjolras’ face lit up.

“Yes really, and I even thought of a name for him.”

“Yes, do tell.”

“Robot.”

Enjolras bit his knuckles to keep from laughing, “Why-why Robot?”

“Because it’s a badass gender-neutral name that’s better than ‘Fluffy’ or ‘Oreo’”

“This is true.”

* * *

 

Grantaire and Enjolras signed the adoption paperwork together two hours later and then went on their phones to search for kitten supplies and dropped by the pet store. Grantaire rubbed at his eyes as he walked in and headed in a completely different direction than he had every time he’d been here before.

Robot, upon a medical exam, was determined a female, and was perched on Enjolras’ shoulder as they entered the pet store, her new collar jingling in his ear. Asking the employees in the store about anything and everything, they finally exited the pet store and returned home with their new fuzzy companion. Grantaire was slowly getting used to said furry friend, who acted more like a dog than he would have thought possible.

For example while Enjolras was at work, he and Robot would play fetch with crumpled up pieces of paper. She liked to splash around in the sink while R was doing to dishes, and she loved to chase him around and jump onto the backs of his jeans, sticking her tiny claws into his legs. She often walked on a leash around the neighborhood and was amazing at taking naps with him, and hardly ever attacked the furniture. She ran to the door when Enjolras got home and he would stick her up on his shoulder like she was a parrot and would lick at the hair around his ears.

She loved to scare people. Joly went to grab more chips from the pantry once at a gathering and she jumped off the top of the refrigerator, landing on his back. He’d screamed and dropped to the floor, Robot still sitting on his back and grooming herself.

Robot loved to be groomed. Enjolras would read with one hand, and run a brush over her back with the other when she brought him her brush between her teeth. She was an affectionate cuddler and slept between Enjolras and Grantaire’s shins. She liked to hide in the laundry basket, scaring the crap out of Enjolras more than once, and in the recycling bin, causing Grantaire to wonder why his rejected artwork was meowing underneath his desk.

It had been about a year since Penguin had passed, and summer had once again arrived. Robot spent most of her time dramatically draped in front of the air conditioner vents and sleeping in her cat tree. One thing Robot did not like about the summer was the thunderstorms that came with the rainy evenings. She almost always put herself in a lap to be constantly pet while the storms raged on.

On this particular stormy date night, Robot was nestled between the two men as they cuddled.

“I think I figured something out.” Grantaire said into Enjolras’ neck.

“And what would that be?”

“A few weeks before Penguin died, he’d constantly be at the window or the glass door, barking at something outside. I think it was a cat. Actually, I think it was Robot’s mother, to be honest. I think Penguin sent us Robot as a sign. A sign to tell us from the spirit world, that he wants us to be happy, here in the physical world. I think she literally ran into our lives not because of the rain, but because Penguin chased her in our direction.”

“That’s a beautiful thought, Grantaire.” Enjolras kissed the top of his head and ran his fingers over Robot’s back, she purred and rubbed her face against his flannel pajama pants.

“Is it weird to think your guardian angel is a dog?”

“I don’t think it’s weird.”

“That’s because you’re weird.”

“You’re weird too.”

“I guess we’re all weird together.”

“I can live with that.”

They both sighed. Robot stretched and slunk into Grantaire’s lap. R looked up, towards the ceiling, towards the heavens, he wasn’t quite sure, but he knew he had to say this right here, and right now, because happiness had never come so easily or stayed for so long, “Thanks Penguin. Thank you for sending us a piece of yourself to keep us company. We love you, boy.”

Robot purred in agreement.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment!  
> Apologies in advance for any misspellings or awkward sentences!  
> 


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